


Kissing Lessons

by heyitsamorette (AmoretteHD)



Series: Kissing Lessons [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Boys Kissing, F/M, Infidelity, Kissing, M/M, Practice Kissing, gay angst, harry wonders about his sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6615670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/heyitsamorette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is shit at snogging and Ron is apparently really good at it. Harry could use a pointer or two.</p><p>A/N: Thank you so much gracerene for betaing ♥ I had so much fun writing this that I might continue it into a mini series of practice snoggery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Lessons

He had no right to be jealous, Harry told himself for the hundredth time, absolutely no right at all. He felt proper guilty about it too, as he should. Ron never got anything first, and this was him getting something first, so Harry should just clap him on the back like a right pal and stop being so moody about the whole thing. That’s what a real friend would do. Not a rotten, shit friend like Harry was, apparently. 

It was getting to the point where he was possibly more irked by Ron and Lavender’s common room snogs than Hermione was… and that was mighty irked. 

Hermione pressed her quill so hard against the parchment she was writing her Herbology essay on that it snapped in half. That was the third quill that week. 

“Buggering hell!” She threw the quill into her bag and pulled out another, her eyes darting quickly in the lascivious couple’s direction. She added under her breath, “I don’t know how anyone’s supposed to be able to concentrate on homework around here when _some_ people don’t have any public decency… Disgusting.”

Harry couldn’t agree more, to be honest. Though he tried not to let Hermione know they were on exactly the same page; she was already a pure horror to be around. 

This whole situation was really getting out of hand. It was affecting all of their lives, since he and Hermione were constantly on edge about it. The only person who seemed to be having fun was Ron… and even he wasn’t super keen on some of Lavender’s more colorful methods of strengthening their bond, via nicknames and jewelry and whatnot. So maybe the only person _really_ enjoying this was Lavender. 

“I wonder what’s so great about Ron’s lips that has her obsessed with snogging him,” he wondered. Then he realized he had wondered out loud. Hermione was staring at him. Her eyebrows were much too high for his liking and higher by the second. His pulse spiked. “I mean, it’s _Ron_.” He tried laughing but it came out like a bark. “I have to go.”

He picked up his bag and all but ran up to his room. Another reason he didn’t want to discuss Ron’s relationship with Hermione was because she might find out Harry wasn’t as much jealous of Ron as he was of -- jesus, it was so hard even to admit to himself, he could feel his cheeks nearly burning off -- well, of Lavender, really. His question remained standing: What _was_ so great about Ron’s snogging that had the girl so bloody addicted?

He shrugged out of his school robe and tossed it onto his bed. Well, now he was distressed. Did this mean he wanted to snog Ron? His best mate? His first instinct was to immediately balk at the idea and deny it, but he couldn’t help the strange feeling curling in his gut, either. Or the way his blood seemed to all rush south.

It was easy for Harry to see how attractive other blokes were; he had always been able to appreciate them aesthetically. All kinds of blokes, his whole life. It was only now with the Ron and Lavender fiasco that he realized he might be interested in appreciating them in other ways as well… And the idea scared him almost as much as facing a bus-full of Dementors. 

The truth was, he was never looking at Lavender when she sat in Ron’s lap in the common room and attempted to suck his face off. Harry was much too focused on the grip of Ron’s large hands on her waist or her arms, how he wrapped his fingers around Lavender’s elbow and held her firmly against him. Ron’s jaw was strong and it moved so mesmerizingly as he kissed. His lips were thin against Lavender’s fuller pout. She seemed to be addicted to those lips, and Harry wondered why. They must be absolutely amazing. 

No, no, it couldn’t be; he shoved all those kinds of ideas away. No, he wasn’t jealous of Lavender, he was definitely just jealous that he didn’t have anyone to snog at the moment. Seeing Ron at it constantly only brought that fact to the forefront of his mind. Harry should just be happy for him, but Harry was a terrible friend who couldn’t deal with Ron getting something before he did. Yes, that was exactly what was happening. 

He just had to get his boner to die down, and then he’d go back downstairs and ask Hermione to help him finish his Transfiguration homework.

He literally jumped when the door opened. Heart racing, he sat down on his bed, hoping his jeans looked less tented that way, and looked up to see who had come into the dorm. He was both thrilled and alarmed to see Ron walk through the door. Harry straightened his back, trying to look normal; because people normally just sat on their beds alone, all the time. It was not weird.

Ron shut the door behind him, whistling an exhale. His lips looked a bit pinker than usual. “Blimey,” he said, walking toward his own bed right next to Harry’s. “I just got away. Thank Merlin she had to go meet Parvati in the library, I thought I’d never escape otherwise.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, looks like you’re really suffering.”

Ron grinned. “You sound like Hermione.” That shut Harry up. “You’re hanging around her too much, mate.”

“She _is_ our friend.”

Ron had the decency to look guilty, but that faded almost as quickly as it took him to bounce up onto his bed. “Yeah, ‘course, I didn’t mean she wasn’t. Just that you’re sounding like her.”

“How’s that?”

Ron rolled his eyes and his cheeks got red. “I think she’s jealous, you know.”

Harry’s heart jumped to his throat. “I’m not jealous of you!” 

Ron looked alarmed and frowned. Perhaps Harry had said that a bit too loudly… and aggressively. 

“Yeah, I know,” Ron said. “Obviously.”

There was a moment where they both stared at their knees, and Harry thought he might die. Maybe he could avoid Ron for the rest of the year if he just lived under his Invisibility Cloak. It would be tricky… but doable. 

“You know, if you are jealous,” Ron said, looking down and picking at a string on the sleeve of his jumper, “I’m sure there are loads of girls who’d be gagging to snog you. You should just, you know…” he shrugged “...pick one.”

Harry wanted to laugh. “But then they’d find out I’m rubbish at snogging,” he said, happy that the mood was lightening, “and I don’t want to give myself away that quickly.”

“Rubbish? Nah! I’ll bet you’re great at it. You kissed Cho, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and then she never kissed me again.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah, you probably suck at it. Sorry, mate.”

Harry smiled. “We can’t all be as good as you.”

That brought a grin to Ron’s face. A smug grin. “Maybe I should teach you a few things.”

“Maybe you should.”

Oh, no… The silence was back.

Fuck, what had he just said? How could that actually have come out of his mouth?! Okay, plan-full-time-Invisibility-Cloak was going into effect _tonight._

“I mean, you just seem like a complete natural at it.”

Oh, God, he was making it worse. So. Much. Worse. What the fuck, Harry, stop trying to fix it and just shut the actual fuck up! The whole room was burning up, slowly draining of any air it had previously contained. 

What was worse, Ron was staring at him. “You’re probably not as bad as you think.”

“Oh, I am.” Harry nodded, trying to emphasize that he was not just being modest, he really was shit at snogging. “You should see how bad I am.” And really shit at word vomit, apparently. 

“Maybe I should,” Ron said, echoing him. 

A spike of lust tore through Harry, keeping him rooted to the spot. Even when Ron started to get up. What was he coming over here for? Why was he sitting right next to him?

He was too close, his thigh pressed against Harry’s, his breath tickled Harry’s cheek. Harry could study his strong jaw and thin lips clearly from here.

Harry set his own jaw, not willing to move or to break eye contact first. He clenched his fists against the mattress. Whatever Ron was playing at, whether he was trying to intimidate him or what, Harry was definitely not going to be the one to back down.

But somehow Ron didn’t feel aggressive to him at the moment. His ears were almost completely red, but it didn’t seem to be from anger or hostility. Maybe Harry hadn’t freaked him out with his awkward outbursts?

“Show me,” Ron said quietly. 

Show him? “What?” His brain felt slow and stalled, like he was wading through water. 

“It won’t be weird, you know,” Ron said, like he was trying really hard to sound convincing. “I’m just helping you, is all. Just like you help me with Quidditch.”

“Quidditch.”

“Yeah.” Ron shifted, swallowing, and Harry’s eyes were drawn to his neck. “Friends help each other out all the time. It’s what friends do. It’s nothing really, it’s just like Quidditch.”

“Quidditch. Yeah.” Somehow the word Quidditch was helping to calm Harry’s nerves, like some sort of universal normalizer. It was familiar, it was safe, it was Quidditch. They were really just bonding over Quidditch, not over kissing. Ron was not going to kiss him....

Oh, fuck, Ron was going to kiss him. 

Harry suddenly became overwhelmed with the desire for that to happen. Ron’s lips were the only thing he could see right now. And they were getting closer every moment. 

Mmmm, god that was just…. _Fuck!_

Soft lips against his, their mouths pressed together. Harry’s chest was doing all kinds of crazy things, like something was zooming around and around in there. 

Ron pulled away, looking as dazed as Harry felt. 

“Wow.” Harry exhaled hard. “You really are a great kisser.”

Ron’s whole face turned instantly red. He grinned and let his tense shoulders go slack. “You’re not so bad, yourself. But…”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You could purse your lips more.” When Harry didn’t reply, he added, “You sort of just… sit there. I wasn’t sure if you were liking it or not, you know?”

If anyone had ever told him he’d be getting a critical evaluation of his kissing technique from Ron, Harry would have laughed right in their face, or possibly punched them. But here he was, feeling like he was smacked in the chest by Ron’s less than stellar review. 

“Are you saying I bored you?”

“No, no, it wasn’t boring, not quite that bad, heh heh. More like, you just weren’t doing anything.”

Harry frowned. “Fine, then I’ll do something.”

“Fine.” Ron shrugged. “Then do it.”

“I will.” Harry sort of twitched like he was going to reach up, but then he didn’t. But he didn’t want to be _boring_ , so he corralled his courage and put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. Oh… Oh, that felt nice. He sort of massaged it with his fingers for a moment purely for his own pleasure, enjoying the feel of it, then stopped because that was probably super awkward. 

Best to just jump right in, really.

Eyes closed, he leaned in and pressed their lips together. He remembered to purse, like Ron said. It was actually quite nice. It was almost like a soft sucking, and Ron’s lips were soft and not at all bad to suck on. He became so lost in the sensation of it that he only just realized his hand had jumped back onto Ron’s chest of it’s own accord. Ah, well, if it insisted on being there…and it made Ron move his own hand to Harry’s hip, so they were sort of snuggly settled against one another. 

Harry had to admit, the press of Ron’s strong, warm body was really nice. 

“That was a lot better,” Ron said when they pulled apart. 

“Yeah it was.” Harry smiled, feeling rather self-satisfied. He was not a boring, limp kisser. See how great he could be at pursing, or whatever?

“How was I?”

Harry smile grew larger, and shyness trickled back in. “Bloody fantastic.”

“Yeah, you liked it?”

Truthfully, he knew why Lavender was obsessed now. Hell, Harry was obsessed. And while he wasn’t going to tell Ron that, he could at least be honest. “I really did.”

And that’s when Ron pounced. 

Harry was shocked, suddenly finding himself flat on his back and Ron on top of him. And holy hell, it was absolutely brilliant. Ron’s mouth was on his, his hands roamed Harry’s body, his hips pressed against Harry’s hips. 

Harry parted his lips only momentarily for air and found himself tasting Ron’s tongue. It slid against Harry’s so wonderfully. So, this was proper snogging, tongue on tongue, mouths moving together in sync and yet at odds. 

Harry’s body was seriously loving it. 

Ron was a brilliant kisser, he most emphatically admitted it. 

And maybe it was Ron, but maybe also it was a little bit the fact that Ron was a bloke. Harry couldn’t deny that anymore, not when it felt so good and so sexy and so unbelievably right. Harry found that kissing wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted Ron to teach him. 

The idea -- imagining what else he wanted to do to Ron -- sent a rush through him that made him moan. Ron’s hand clamped at Harry’s waist, spurred by the noise, and he kissed him possibly more furiously. Harry never knew that kissing could bring him this high, and so close. His cock was achingly hard in his jeans.

And just when he started to think about all the other blokes in the world he could practice kissing (because now that the floodgates had opened, there seemed no going back), the sound of someone climbing the stairs reached them. 

Ron flew off him so fast, it was like he’d Disapparated. He was back on his own bed before Harry could even gather himself together enough to sit up. 

“Heyo.” It was Neville. He bounced in all chipper and whistling some Weird Sisters tune. 

Harry actually wanted to punch him in the face. 

“Neville,” Ron growled, red all over his cheeks and neck, “what are you doing here?”

Neville looked up quizzically. “Er, this is my room.”

“Well, get the fuck out!”

Neville narrowed his eyes, coming over to them. “Why?” he put his hands on his hips. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing!” they both shouted, and Neville almost jumped. 

“All right, all right. Sheesh.” He walked to his trunk and pulled out a thick textbook. “I just need to get a book and then I’m going to dinner, anyways. Are you guys going to come dow--”

“NEVILLE, I SWEAR TO MERLIN!” 

Neville gave Ron a dirty look and walked to the door.

Frustrated as he was at being interrupted, Harry did feel bad for him. As he watched Neville leave, he couldn’t help but wonder what _he_ was like at kissing. If, in fact, he had ever kissed anyone before.

“So, Harry, do you think you’ve learned something?” Ron was pink and regaining his breath. 

Harry bit his lip. Now that the moment was broken -- Neville’s entrance totally killed his boner -- he started to wonder where this would lead. Ron was his best friend. And they had just snogged like mad!

“Golly.” Ron rubbed the back of his neck. Harry wondered if he was thinking the same thing. 

“You know, I think we should probably go have dinner too.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, shooting up. “Brilliant, I’m starving.”

Harry followed Ron silently out of the room, feeling a bit awkward but also very happy. Today had certainly opened up some very interesting new possibilities…

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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